


He was not!

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil should never be allowed to see musicals. Celeborn watches the ensuing chaos, as Fëanor is compared to Sweeney Todd, Thranduil sings, and Maglor overreacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He was not!

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized words are from "Sweeney Todd"

At times, Celeborn appreciated the fact that every elf still remaining in Middle-Earth was able to peacefully coexist. When you were left with only a handful of people who could still remember the First Age, regardless of which group you had belonged to, it was nice to be able to talk to other people. And then there were days like today.

Theoretically, it should have been a nice day – he had journeyed to New York to meet up with Maglor and Thranduil. Thranduil had ventured to America back in the 1600s, coming with some of the very first settlers and establishing himself in the forests. Maglor had come a few centuries later, hoping to establish himself in one of the orchestras that were popping up in all the major cities. With the invention of airplanes, there had been no reason for him not to come to America to see them.

However, he had not expected Thranduil to be drunk and wanting to sing. That generally put a damper on his day, especially when Thranduil also happened to be in the mood to annoy Maglor.

“Soooo….”, Thranduil began. Celeborn wanted to bang his head against the table. “I was at a show the other night, Maglor, and it reminded me of your father.”

Celeborn glanced at Maglor. Hopefully, this would not end too badly.

“What show was it?” was the answering query.

“Sweeney Todd…you should both go see it some time, it’s very good. Dark humor, some of the actresses are pretty as well…” Thranduil of course would be concerned with that. “Anyways, the song is called the Ballad of Sweeney Todd.”

“Oh, please, don’t start singing it here,” Celeborn groaned. “It’s the middle of lunch hour, in a crowded park.”

“But then how will you ever know why it reminds me of Feanor?” and with that, Thranduil started to sing.

_“Attend the tale of Sweeny Todd, his skin was pale and his eye was odd.”_

Judging by the look already on Maglor’s face, this was not going to end well. “My father did not have an odd eye!”

_“He shaved the faces of gentlemen, who never thereafter were heard of again.”_

“If you must annoy us with songs, Thranduil, please try to choose ones that actually have something in common with whoever you’re talking about,” Celeborn pleaded.

_“He trod a path that few have trod, did Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street!”_

“NOR WAS HE A DEMON!”

_“He kept a shop in London Town of fancy clients and good renown. And what if none of their souls were saved? ”_

“Feanor was not a barber, why must you do things like this? You’re going to get yourself beat up one of these days.” Celeborn now remembered exactly why he had been so glad that Thranduil had left Europe…

“Because it does make sense! Just keep listening!” Thranduil interpreted his singing to exclaim, before continuing.

_“They went to their Maker impeccably shaved by Sweeney, by Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”_

Celeborn bit his tongue at the look on Maglor’s face. He wanted to comment badly that that bit only applied if by shaved, Thranduil meant lacking their heads. However, the look on Maglor’s face made him refrain – he certainly did not want to meet Mandos today.

_“Swing your razor wide, Sweeney, Hold it to the skies! Freely flows the blood of those who moralize.”_

Perhaps Thranduil did have a point – change razor to sword, and that bit would fit Feanor. Still, there were the consequences of saying such to consider. However much it fit, saying that to Feanor’s son was not the brightest idea Thranduil had ever had.

_“His need were few, his room was bare:”_

“I suppose that’s true…Atar never wanted a room over flowing where he couldn’t find whatever he was looking for at a glance,” Maglor relaxed for one second, until Thranduil continued.

_“A lavabo and a fancy chair, A mug of suds and a leather strop, An apron, a towel, a pail and a mop.”_

Celeborn sighed; Thranduil really had no idea what he was talking about…

_“For neatness, he deserves a nod. Does Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”_

“HE WAS NOT A DEMON!” And now they were attracting looks. Wonderful. Hopefully they didn’t end up in jail.

_“Inconspicuous Sweeney was, quick and quiet and clean he was. Back of his smile, under his word, Sweeney heard music that nobody heard!”_

“He didn’t have hallucinations either!” Maglor shrieked. Celeborn quickly backed away from the area, as Thranduil broke off his singing to reply.

“No, that would be you, wouldn’t it Maglor?”

As Maglor started chasing him around the park, Thranduil momentarily managed to evade the punches.

“ _Sweeney pondered and Sweeney planned, Like a perfect machine he planned! Sweeney was smooth, Sweeney was subtle, Sweeney would blink and rats would scuttle.”_

Lovely, Celeborn could see the police approaching; probably called by one of the many scared tourists he could see. Granted, those two probably did deserve to be locked up, though the question was whether in a jail or an asylum.

Thranduil was now running even faster, as was Maglor. The police officers giving chase couldn’t quite manage to keep up.

_“Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd, he served a dark and hungry god! What –“_

Thranduil was cut off by Maglor finally catching up to him and jumping on top of him, beginning to punch him. And yet, the fool wouldn’t stop singing.

_“What happened then, well that’s the play, and he wouldn’t want us to give it away. Not Sweeney, Not Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street!”_

“He was not a DEMON, you idiot Moriquendi!” Maglor finally managed to land a punch on Thranduil’s jaw, only to be dragged away kicking and screaming by two officers. Thranduil jumped up and seemed to be about to sing some more, before another officer grabbed him and started dragging him in the direction of a police car.

Celeborn sighed. He supposed he would have to go pay bail for the two of them at some point, though he was tempted to allow Thranduil to remain in there until he acquired some common sense. Still, at least it would be a somewhat amusing story to tell, if he ever made it to Valinor...


End file.
